


dancing in the dark

by Irrwisch



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Dancing, Drinking, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, No Dialogue, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22873378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irrwisch/pseuds/Irrwisch
Summary: Husk was not a people’s person. In fact, he did best the further away he got from any sort of contact. Alastor was the exact opposite. It felt like Alastor knew somebody everywhere they would go; and he was full of stories of what he did with who-gives-a-shit all the time.So it was only natural that Husk alone wouldn’t be enough. He wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t. He’d known. But still, it didn’t need to hurt quite like this.
Relationships: Alastor & Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Rosie (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 76





	dancing in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> I had a passing idea of basically one scene and I struggled with this all evening/night. For anyone who wants to know background/more, I’m available until death

Oh.

He’s known the Radio Demon for a few years and he knew that he was definitely a people’s person. Alastor had a habit of hyper-focussing on any given person at a time, but was also able to switch that attention from person to person in the blink of an eye. Being under the focus of the red-haired bastard was surely one of the worst things Husk had ever experienced. Luckily, you got used to it after the ninth or so time.

Also, Alastor was nothing but sound, voice, noise, music and all these things that made a headache even worse. However, if he was alone – truly alone – he was quiet. The Radio Demon had deemed Husk dead asleep, so he hadn’t bothered making any sounds. Still, hearing that man being so quiet had been downright weird. But at the same time, he felt like he had witnessed something rather private somehow and even if it had been unintentional, it still felt special.

Point was: Alastor thrived among other people. After all, one of his favourite hobbies was making others as uncomfortable as possible and he achieved that with his mere presence easily enough. After all, it’s what he did to Husk all the time. He wanted to believe himself somewhat immune to it, but how immune can you get to someone popping into existence right next to you to mess with your fur?

Husk, on the other hand, was not a people’s person. He had zero friends in Hell. If he had to stretch, he could name a few buddies he drank or played cards with, but friends would be people that you invite over to your house or that you celebrate your birthday with. So, he had none of those. Well... maybe except for Alastor. Now, that been less of a mutual agreement and more something along the lines of Alastor deciding it, but the end-result was the same.

So, whenever Alastor decided to pay Husk a visit, they were usually on their own. He would, occasionally, talk about other people he’d met, but frankly, Husk paid little attention to these tales. He didn’t know who any of them were, nor did he care and also Alastor had this very annoying habit of not only going through a topic on rapid speed, but also scratching Husk’s ears. He learned quickly that protest was heard, and utterly ignored. So he might as well enjoy the scratches and deny that fact until the end of eternity.

As a result, Husk knew he wasn’t Alastor’s only friend. He thought that maybe he was the best friend, but how should he know with nobody to compare to? And even if, he wasn’t sure if being the best friend of the fucking Radio Demon was a badge to hold on to. And if he wasn’t – honestly, he didn’t wanna know. Alastor dropped things that didn’t amuse him anymore like a hot potato and Husk didn’t wanna be one of those things. He wasn’t even sure why the deer stuck around in the first place, since Husk wasn’t exactly graced with the most welcoming of personalities. Frankly, his biggest and probably only personality trait was _drunk_.

If he’d ask, Alastor would laugh the same way he always laughs and answer. It’d be easy enough. But – what if the answer wouldn’t be the one he wanted? What would that answer even be? He had no fucking clue. So maybe it was best just not to ask at all and try not to change a fucking thing since clearly there was something about him that Alastor found amusing.

The raising question of why he wanted to keep the deer around was a question best left unasked and, more importantly, unanswered.

Alastor had called earlier. Husk demanded he call if he wanted something because there were only so many heart attacks one could take from someone just materialising in the fucking room. He invited Husk to some sort of gala. He’d done that in the past and Husk had loathed every single minute of it. The people there were stuck up pricks and the food was too fancy to really enjoy. At least the drinks were always nice. He knew that Alastor wasn’t the type to enjoy these kinds of things, but that guy loved pulling pranks on assholes. Now, he couldn’t explode a dude in such a venue, but he could still mess with them; and that he did. Husk would often serve as a distraction in these cases.

So that was probably the reason Alastor invited him. Also, seeing him be mostly miserable must be a delight to the man’s sick sense of humour. So Husk groaned and accepted – if only because it’s been about two weeks since he saw Alastor last. He wasn’t going to admit that to anyone even if it killed him. Nobody deserved to know and even Husk didn’t really understand why he was looking forward to seeing his friend.

It must be the years catching up. That was most definitely it. No other explanation possible. Nope. Nothing. Nada.

Strangely enough, Alastor said he wouldn’t be able to pick him up. Husk didn’t understand. That dude could fucking teleport, and he couldn’t just quickly pop in, get him, and get back? Also, it was the first time Alastor said that. Every other time, he picked him up and something didn’t sit right with Husk. Of course, he knew that Alastor had different, more important people around him than Husk, but – still, it didn’t feel nice. It felt – it felt like Husk was just an after-thought. Maybe he was. He probably wasn’t as important to the Radio Demon as he thought – oh fuck this. Fuck feelings. Fuck Alastor, fuck all of this. He was going to the party, and he was going to be fucking smashed before he even arrived.

He suppressed the tiny voice that said Alastor wouldn’t give a shit. He knew that. He fucking _knew_ that.

So here he was – he even put on his nice hat and bow-tie because he knew Alastor would appreciate that, even if he didn’t say anything. He didn’t brush his fur, because that shit took forever, looked stupid and was nearly impossible on his own as he couldn’t reach his back. He also didn’t groom his wings because Husk couldn’t be bothered with that shit, if Mr. Red couldn’t be bothered to pick him up.

And, of course, he was drunk. He knew there wouldn’t be enough booze here to get him intoxicated at all. He knew he was probably the lowest-ranking demon at this thing, because it was a venue of the rich and powerful – two things Husk most definitely was not. Even the door guard that checked his invitation was probably of a higher standing than him. Fair enough, who cared. But – before he even got to that guy, he stopped. He’s been to a thing like this exactly one time before. And back then, it had been because Alastor had needed a plus one.

Had Husk been his first choice? Or did he ask him because no-one else had been available? His hands started fidgeting. This sort of stuff was way above his pay grade and Alastor well fucking knew that. So why did he ask him to come? Especially considering that he said Husk would need to come here on his own. Would he even _talk_ to his friend? Did Alastor ask him to come just so Husk would realise just how different their worlds were? He didn’t understand. He seldom understood the Radio Demon, but this time it actually hurt. Maybe he should turn around and leave. Nobody’s seen him yet and even if, it wasn’t a crime to stand outside. But what should he tell Alastor? It wasn’t like he could just tell him the _truth_. He clenched his jaw tight.

He wouldn’t even wonder about these things if Alastor had just come and picked him up!

It’s not like he needed the extra reminder that he wasn’t worth the Radio Demon’s time.

Whatever. Fuck this. He’d go in, find Al, say hello and then piss off half an hour in. He’d go to his pub, tell everyone to fuck off if they asked about his nice attire and get stone-faced drunk. Yes, that was a way better plan than be miserable at a party not for him. So he went up to the door, told the demon his name and that he was here on the behalf of one fuckface named Alastor and was let right now. Alastor’s name opened a lot of doors, he found. He usually didn’t even need any sort of proof. Now, that didn’t mean he used Alastor’s name everywhere he could – in fact, he used it only in a case of emergency. He could solve his own disputes and didn’t need to dangle Al’s name over others.

He didn’t really get any directions – or he did and just didn’t hear them – so he looked around first. Alastor was usually very easy to spot, being as red as he was. However, the light was pretty dim so it was hard to see much of anything. He decided to go further in first and he might find Alastor’s table and could just see from there.

However, as he was walking, the music started to really stir. It got him a headache in the first forty seconds and he grumbled. He decided to keep on walking. And then, these assholes started to clap and really, that didn’t help his fucking headache. Angrily, he looked over to see what the fuck they were clapping about.

It was then he found Alastor.

Oh.

Oh.

_Oh._

He knew that Alastor loved to dance. He also loved to sing and sadly, did that rather frequently and absolutely unprompted. Also he liked doing it most when Husk suffered from a nasty hangover. In the past, he’s tried to dance with Husk, but he’d successfully evaded that. Now – now he wished he had.

Alastor was dancing.

He was dancing with a woman.

Husk recognised her, of course. This wasn’t his first day in Hell, after all. The woman Alastor was dancing with was Rosie, one of the Overlords, much like Alastor himself. An equal, if you so will. And – Alastor had talked about her in the past. Husk remembered the name being mentioned.

There was a Cannibal Town not far from here, and Alastor and Rosie went there quite often. They looked great, dancing together. Alastor wore one of his best suits, and Rosie wore a very fitting dress that swirled with every movement that she made. These two dancing overshadowed everybody else so much that they all had stopped just to watch.

Now, Husk was quite the ways away from the dance floor, but he could imagine the way these two must look at each other. They were equal to each other. They were equal in taste, style and power. Was – was she the reason Alastor couldn’t be bothered picking him up? Did he pick _her_ up? Did they come here together? Was she the one Alastor had been spending the past two weeks with? It must undoubtedly be more amusing to be with her, right?

He clenched his fists. Did Alastor –

No. No, it couldn’t be that. It – it _couldn’t_.

His lip quivered and he was quite thankful for the dim light now. His ears drooped and he just stood there for a moment, defeated. Luckily, nobody paid him any mind. The other guest would probably mistake him as one of the waiters, anyway. He bit his lip.

Fine. Fucking fine. He received the message. He fucking got it.

It could’ve been nicer. That’s it. It hadn’t needed to be a fucking punch in the gut.

He turned around and left.

He didn’t wanna stay to see Alastor after all.

He didn’t wanna see him coming with Rosie in tow.

He didn’t wanna see any of that.

He got the message.

He fucking got it.

~

He went and got drunk. He spend all his money in the hope he wouldn’t be able to cry if he was smashed. Also he didn’t wanna think about why it fucking hurt. He just _didn’t_ but life didn’t work that way.

He’s not stupid. People think he was, because his default state was being intoxicated. Now, yeah, he wasn’t any fucking genius or whatever but he could put two and two together. Having to do that about himself sucked, but he couldn’t help it.

Seeing Alastor dancing with Rosie was just the last two he needed. He clutched his bottle tighter and wished he could just forget he ever saw that. He knew he wasn’t good enough. He knew he was just some cheap entertainment for the deer and that he would never be anything more. Still, that didn’t mean he had to like it.

He was in love with Mr. Red.

It was bound to happen eventually. Alastor was an extremely handsome dude, judging by the standards of Hell anyway and his suit fit him just fine. He might be the worst homicidal maniac he’s ever known, but many of his schemes turned out to be pretty fun in the end.

And then, of course, there was the proximity. Alastor was the only guy Husk really knew. So of course, what he felt about the Radio Demon would only grow stronger.

He sunk down on the bar. Maybe he should just go home. At home, he could cry properly. And he wouldn’t need to pay for the poison he had at home. Also, there would be less judging. Not that anyone could afford to judge anyone here, anyway. Yes. Home was a good idea.

He paid what he owed and got up to make his way home.

Did Alastor notice Husk didn’t come? Did he care? Or was he laughing to Rosie, that the stupid cat finally got the message? He clenched his jaw again. Alastor could’ve done it nicer. He could’ve talked to Husk about it.

But that meant he knew.

This display meant that Alastor knew.

How long he had known, he wondered.

When did it start to bother him?

Did Husk annoy him somehow?

Or maybe his feelings were just another thing to play around with; as long as it provided any fun.

One time, Alastor had dumped him for two months because he “wasn’t fun” to be around.

Maybe that should’ve been his first clue. He should’ve tried harder to be funny. Maybe he should’ve come up with his own fun schemes to prove he was worthwhile.

He couldn’t decide what would hurt more.

Would it have been better if Alastor would have outright rejected him?

Honestly, he didn’t know. Maybe it would’ve been. If Alastor had said these words, right into his face, with that smile of his, then Husk could’ve just given up.

Maybe they’d stay friends? Of course, that was a foolish thought. He hadn’t worked back when he was alive, so why the fuck should it work now? No, his only friend just cancelled their friendship.

That was okay.

Of course that was okay.

Who needed friends anyway?

They were only useless garbage.

They’d only distract him from drinking.

They’d only distract him from gambling.

So fuck ‘em.

Fuck Alastor.

He didn’t need him.

He didn’t –

He arrived home. It was dark, and cold, and empty. For some reason he was let down by that. He didn’t know what he was expecting.

Fuck, of course he knew.

He hoped Alastor would be here.

He hoped Alastor would’ve picked up on his internal distress and come here to check up on him.

So coming home to nothing but emptiness was – disappointing.

Husk swallowed the lump in his throat.

He emptied his liquor cabinet.

He could just restock it tomorrow. Who cared, anyway? He was sad, he was entitled. And most importantly, he did not cry. Nope. No tears. Not the slightest amount of liquid leaving his eyes. The soreness in his throat must mean he was getting a cold, nothing else.

He huddled in front of the couch and pulled his wings closer. He hadn’t bothered turning on the light. What was the point? What was the point of anything?

When he closed his eyes, he could see Alastor and Rosie dancing with each other.

When he didn’t cry, he wondered what it would be like to dance with Alastor.


End file.
